At the Bottom of Night
by JasoTheArtisan
Summary: Ichigo and Rukia enjoy a quiet beer with one another one night, simply enjoying their friendship...
1. At the Bottom of Night

_**At the Bottom of Night**_

These moments were the greatest.

Ichigo was sitting on the porch next to Rukia, a beer in both of their hands, the full moon glowing softly on the grass in front of them. It had been six years after Aizen's defeat and almost all of the Hollow activity in Karakura Town had stopped. It was almost as if some benevolent force had ordained that the poor district had gone through plenty already, that enough was enough. So Ichigo didn't have too much to do in the way of substitute Shinigami work.

It still didn't stop his old friends from stopping in to see him, though.

When he and the rest of his "band of heroes" had graduated from High School, they'd been congratulated by a swarm of Shinigami in artificial bodies. Renji and Rukia had been there, as well as Ikkaku and Yumichika and Matsumoto. Even the normally sour-faced Captain Hitsugaya had attended.

When he'd turned twenty one, his apartment had been filled with not only his college classmates, but that same group of _gigai-_clad Soul Reapers. And it had only been natural that the more Shinigami had shown up for _that_ event, Matsumoto bringing along her drinking buddies to further "spice up" the festivities.

Spice things up, his ass. Ichigo was still plastering up the holes that Kira had put in the drywall.

But nothing could compare to the time he spent alone with Rukia, the two of them simply sitting together in his tiny apartment. As much as he enjoyed the company of all those other characters from his past, Kuchiki Rukia would always take precedence over them. And it was completely unexplainable. If he held a choice between going to a strip club with Renji and Ikkaku, or sitting around doing nothing with Rukia, he would always pick the latter. Something about the young girl had always soothed him, had always filled him with a feeling of comfort.

Even from the moment she'd first appeared in his room, he'd been able to talk to her like he'd never talked to anyone before. He was able to be himself around her, a luxury that he found with fewer and fewer people as time went on. He couldn't act the way he did with Rukia with anyone else, even with his own family. They both had sacrificed so much for one another; they held a personal bond that was, for lack of a better word, unbreakable.

Which was why she visited him the most.

Rukia would spend a weekend or two in the real world every couple of months. And with the lack of Hollow activity, she wasn't there on business, either. Sure there _were _nights when the two of them would need to run out of Ichigo's little apartment and dispose of the odd ghoul or perform a soul burial. But they really were few and far between moments.

Most of the time they just sat around and watched shitty movies and drank shitty beer. And on especially nice nights, like the one that they were currently enjoying, they would forgo the bad movie and simply look at the moon. They kept the shitty beer, though. Ichigo's dad couldn't stress it enough that a "real" college student drank only the cheapest of beers.

Sometimes, like tonight, he would even bring it over for them.

Rukia came back out onto the porch, sliding the glass door shut behind her. Ichigo smiled as she handed him another brown bottle; he'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed her get up and go inside. She sat down on the bench next to him, smiling back before twisting the cap off her beer. The small piece of metal hitting the tiles of the patio with a clink, joining the dozen that were already littering the floor of his terrace.

"Hey, look," she said suddenly, pointing out into the night sky. "The moon's coming back out."

She was right; the moon had been hidden behind a string of clouds for the majority of the night, its blue light only shining along the edges. Now it had emerged fully, and the entire field in front of them was illuminated once again. Ichigo couldn't help but look at Rukia's glimmering violet eyes as she looked up at the lunar surface. He smiled at her smile, the way she looked up innocently at the beautiful full moon.

"What are you looking at, dummy?" Rukia asked, noticing him looking at her. She squinted at him in a half playful, half threatening manner as she took a swig from her beer.

"Ah," Ichigo droned out, lifting his own bottle to his lips. "Nothing, you stupid midget."

She laughed softly before she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. Ichigo chuckled inwardly— there were two strong indicators that Rukia was drunk. Either she started to punch him, or she leaned her head against him. He was glad tonight was going to be the latter; it was way too out nice to be sparring against an intoxicated Shinigami.

As the minutes ticked by in comfortable silence, Rukia began to get more horizontal on the bench, her thin legs stretching across the whole surface as she rested her head in his lap. Ichigo sighed as he looked on at the sinking moon. This wasn't the first time his best friend had fallen asleep this way. He just hoped that she didn't drool on his jeans again. Those white marks looked suspiciously like another variety of stain that he had no desire to have on his denims.

"Did I ever really thank you for saving me?"

The voice itself surprised him as much as the content of the question. Ichigo looked down at Rukia, her wide eyes looking up at him in silent appreciation. She hadn't ever thanked him, really; in the six and a half years since he'd fought through the whole of Soul Society to save her life, she hadn't truly thanked him. But he'd never expected her to thank him. After all, she'd told him to leave her behind.

"Shut up, dummy," he said stubbornly, cutting his head to the side. "You know I never wanted one in the first place."

Instead of the harsh reply he'd expected, he heard a quick sniffle disguised in a chuckle. His eyes shot down at her quickly, his brow furrowed in confusion. Was Kuchiki Rukia _crying?_ And sure enough, tears had begun to form a border around her large eyes. But her smile remained as she looked up at him from his leg.

"I'm sorry I put you through all of that," she said, her voice quivering slightly through her smile. "I'm sorry that I made you risk your life for me, and that you've had to deal with it ever since." She looked off to the side for a moment, a single tear rolling down her ivory cheek and spattering on his pants.

"I'm sorry for being your burden, Ichigo."

"Rukia…"

Ichigo didn't know what to say. He'd had no idea that she still felt this way. He thought she knew how he _wanted _to save her, how she changed his life for the better. How he simply enjoyed her being around him.

Rukia sat up and placed a hand on his cheek, her fingers fitting perfectly against the curve of his jaw. She looked at him, her violet irises shimmering in the moonlight. She smiled only a little, the corners of her mouth curving up ever so slightly as she leaned closer to him, her face merely inches from his.

"Thank you, Ichigo," she said softly before touching her lips to his.

Instinct took over almost immediately, and Ichigo found himself kissing her back. She pushed in deeper, her hand sliding lithely from his cheek to the back of his head, her fingers gently digging into his orange hair. He put his own hand on her neck, cupping the angle of her face in his palm. His other hand slid itself around to her waist, the mischievous arm pulling her petite body closer to his.

She moved with him, her body soon sitting on top of his as their tongues gently slid against each other. With her knees resting on both sides of his hips, it wasn't difficult for him to stand up and carry her little body inside, quickly making it to the bed within the apartment.

He sat her down atop the mattress, his hand sliding up her leg, slipping underneath the hem of her blue sundress. She reached a hand of her own up to his shoulder, her fingers digging into his shirt as his fingers began to caress the inside of her thigh. She moaned slightly at the touches, her body quivering slightly as her fingertips pushed further into the fabric on his shoulder.

She rolled then, her body finding itself on top of him, both her legs straddling his left thigh, the edge of her dress still hiked up around her thighs. They looked at each other through the darkness, their mouths finally having broken apart. Her colorful and innocent eyes looked down into his stern and dark ones, both of their bodies heaving from air deprived during their passions.

Wordlessly, Ichigo began to pull at the cloth of her dress, sliding the light-blue fabric from her body and over her head. She sat still for a moment, her groin subtly pushing onto his thigh, her orange underwear rubbing against his jeans. He quickly placed his lips against hers once more, his hand reaching around to her back, his calloused fingers brushing against her fair skin.

Rukia reached down and began unbuttoning his shirt, the white fabric spreading at her fingers as she slowly exposed his lean torso. She grabbed at the now open shirt and pushed it back and over his shoulders, leaving him in only his jeans.

She undid the buckle of his belt slowly, the thin metal clicking with a whisper.

They quickly found themselves naked against the cool sheets of the bed, Rukia slowly moving her hips down and against Ichigo's, her little voice moaning as he pushed up and into her. She reached up with her left hand, her fingers running through her own hair. Her right slid down her flat stomach and met with his flesh, her fingers trailing a line up to his chest. She bit her lip as she looked down into the brown eyes of Kurosaki Ichigo, of the boy that had truly saved her life.

The eyes of the boy she loved.

-----------------------

_inspired by some wonderful art by _**_NTDevont_**_:_

_http://ntdevont._

_deviantart_

_.com/art/IchiXRuki-collab-114350844  
_

_never thought i'd write about this pair. i've always loved them, but never thought i'd actually do it._

**at the bottom of night - yasunori mitsuda**


	2. Miss Blue

_**Miss Blue**_

Rukia drifted slowly up to consciousness, the warm light of morning splashing upon her small face.

Her eyes stayed closed, enjoying the feeling of a good night's rest, of the soft blankets she was wrapped in. The sound of a lark's song drifted in through a window, bringing a smile to her tranquil face. She stretched upon the bed and soon buried herself under the sheets again. She didn't want to wake up; not yet. The morning was too pleasant, the bed was too soft, the comforter she'd cocooned herself in smelled too much like Ichigo.

She sat up with a start, her eyes snapping open quickly before widening in shock.

She looked around, seeing that she was in Ichigo's room, seeing that she was in his bed. Hell, she was even wearing one of his _shirts. _She pulled the neck of the large shirt out and looked inside; she was _naked_ underneath the article of clothing. She groaned and fell back, her head hitting the pillow with a gentle thud. The night before was coming back to her with a ruthless level of clarity.

It hadn't been a dream.

She had really slept with him.

Rukia wasn't upset at the fact that she and Ichigo had done what they'd done. The sex had been wonderful, phenomenal. He'd kissed her, she'd kissed him. They'd moaned and come together. They'd breathed in heavy unison. They'd fallen asleep in one another's arms. Everything that happened had been great. But it wasn't _what _happened last night that upset Rukia. It was _how_.

She loved Ichigo with all of her heart. He was the reason she'd truly found a reason to smile again after Kaien's death. He was the reason she gladly accepted every mission to the real world that Captain Ukitake would place upon her. She'd loved him since the moment he'd picked up a sword and fought on her behalf. He was selfless. He was funny. He was brave and he was smart and he was strong.

And he was handsome. God was he _handsome_.

But with how much Rukia cared about Ichigo, she had always hoped that her admittance would come out in a slightly more… _subtle _fashion. While she truly loved him, she'd never been able to find the right time to tell him. It was part of the reason she spent so much time with him; she was hoping that eventually she would figure out the words that were needed. Sure she enjoyed his company more than anything, but sometimes it was painful for her to just sit next to him and not be able to say how she felt about him.

Even though she'd held no idea on how she _actually _wantedto profess her love to Kurosaki Ichigo, she was positive that getting drunk and sexually mauling him was _not _her ideal method of confession.

Rukia slid her feet off the side of the bed and stood up. She looked around the room silently, noting that the orange bra and panties she wore last night were nowhere in sight. She also noticed, with a touch of relief and a touch of sorrow, that Ichigo was also gone.

Rukia really had no desire to speak to him just yet; she had a feeling that seeing him would completely drive any sort of rational thought from her head and leave her in a babbling stupor. Waking up alone was a small blessing that she was extremely grateful for.

And yet, for some odd reason, she felt a slight pang of anguish that he'd woken up and left. It was still Sunday, so he didn't have classes. Why didn't he wake her up, too? Was he going to avoid her now? Were things going to be ruined?

Rukia shook her head, trying to abolish these fears before they truly blossomed.

Unfortunately, shaking her head brought forth a sharp sting in her brain. She could feel the immanent hangover begin to settle; the one problem about drinking in a _gigai _was that the hangovers were _monstrous. _She'd never gotten the whole reason out of Urahara, but she knew it had something to do with the absence of spirit particles in the real world. She groaned and walked towards the bedroom door, knowing full well she would need to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. And soon.

She stopped as she passed the full length mirror that was nailed to the wall by the entrance of Ichigo's tiny room. She looked at herself with a womanly level of scrutiny, noting the small bags under her eyes with disdain. Not only was this hangover going to _feel _horrible, but she was going to look bad too? Today just wasn't starting out in her favor.

She turned to walk out of the room when she noticed a large red mark on her pale neck. She looked back into the mirror, tilting her head to the left to get a better look.

"Oh my _God,_" she said in quiet incredulity, her eyes widening in surprise. The red mark consisted of a sizeable ring of teeth marks. Each of the small nicks in her flesh had swelled slightly, rising up from the rest of her skin. She touched a few fingers to the superficial wounds and gingerly felt the tender spot. _I _must _have drunk too much, _she thought to herself as she stared at the bite mark. _I don't remember the sex being _that _good._

_Must have been, though._

She couldn't even imagine seeing Ichigo right now; she looked a mess and she held a blazing reminder of last night's drunken misadventures on her neck. While she was still a bit insulted from his absence this morning, the love-bite made her all the more relieved that she didn't have to see him immediately. Perhaps she would leave his house before there was an opportunity to talk about it all. Not that she was opposed to seeing him; she wanted more than anything for the two of them to remain friends after this. She just didn't want to confront that scenario right away.

Besides, Rukia wasn't exactly opposed doing _it_ again.

She opened the door and stepped through, making her way across the tiled floor the living room and toward the kitchen. Her mission of hydration was not forgotten through the disbelief of her sexual battle-scars and her fears of awkwardness. Whenever she saw Ichigo again would be as good a time as ever to talk about the situation between the two of them. Good or bad, she would talk it all out with him like an adult.

The front door swung open as the two men of the Kurosaki family loudly marched through.

Rukia froze. She was trapped in the middle of the hallway that led from the living room to the kitchen. She had no rooms off to the side that she could dart into, no place to vanish from the eyes of the two men in front of her, She could only remain in plain sight as they entered the apartment, her small body covered in nothing but one of Ichigo's large shirts.

Ichigo and his father stepped into the foyer of the apartment and stopped. Both of their faces froze into emotionless masks at the sight of her; they didn't speak and they didn't move. Their eyes had even frozen open, neither of them blinking in the presence of her. Rukia could feel her cheeks heat up as the two men looked at her; she wanted so bad to turn and run, but her legs were paralyzed and kept her feet stuck to the spot of the floor. She couldn't even begin to imagine the implications that her current outfit brought forth.

After a few excruciatingly slow moments, the two of them reacted. Ichigo's large brown eyes widened almost to the point of extraction. It was apparent that Rukia in one of his shirts was the last thing he'd expected to see when he'd opened the door. The look that had splattered itself upon his face was an indescribable mix between horror and surprise.

Isshin, in extreme contrast to his son's reaction, looked absolutely delighted.

And that's when the impasse shattered.

"My boy!" Kurosaki Isshin yelled out, extending his arms out from his chest. "You have— _hey!_" Ichigo immediately began shoving his father back through the still open door, halting the elder man's speech in its tracks.

"Finish that line and I'll fucking _ruin you_, old man!"

Rukia didn't wait around to see the remainder of the struggle; she had been presented an escape and she was sure as hell going to take it. She darted back into Ichigo's room and slammed the door behind herself, twisting the lock before slumping down to the floor, her back against the wood. She brought her hands up to her head and she dug her fingers into her dark hair, her teeth gritting in frustration. Against her will, she began to feel her eyes grow hot with frustrated tears.

_Why? _She was screaming inside of her own head as her hands twisted themselves in her raven locks. _Why did they have to see me like that? Why did he bring his fucking _father _over? Was he _trying_ to embarrass me?_

Despite her inner fury, she listened intently as Ichigo's front door closed gently, followed by the soft shuffling of his socks of the tiled floor of his living room. She kept silent as he tried the knob, the door jigging against her back.

"Rukia," he said with an aggravated sigh.

She didn't respond.

"Rukia, let me in."

She maintained her silence as he shook at the door a few more times. She wasn't going to open it, no matter what he said. If she thought meeting up with him was going to be embarrassing before, it was a thousand times worse now. She couldn't even imagine what Isshin must think of her. Disregarding his typical buffoonish reaction, he had walked into his son's apartment to see "his third daughter" dressed in nothing but his son's shirt. With a sizeable hickey on her neck. She wanted to go back to Soul Society and never return.

She heard him sit down on the other side of the door, his feet sliding against the floor as his legs stretched out ahead of him, his head bumping against the wood as he leaned against it. They sat in silence like that for a while. Rukia couldn't even guess how long the stalemate lasted; to her, their verbal impasse seemed to go on forever, the sky slowly beginning to brighten through the window as the sun rose higher in the sky.

"Rukia, I'm sorry," Ichigo said through the door, his voice sounding strained but calm. "I didn't think you were still gonna be here."

"Oh," she said with an instinctual venom, her voice responding despite her desire to remain quiet. "_That's _good to know. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't have the chance to _leave_, yet." She couldn't believe him. He had really expected her to have simply vanished from his house?

"That's not what I meant," he snapped with exasperation.

"Then what _did _you mean, Ichigo?" Her voice was beginning to waver in frustration, pain mixing with rage. "Because it seems to me like you just wanted to get out and hope that I was gone before you got back."

"That's not it at all!" he barked through the door. Despite his apparent frustration, there was almost a tinge of pleading in his voice. Rukia heard him take a breath, and when he continued, his voice was more tranquil. "My stupid dad came over this morning. He wanted to come in, so I took him out to lunch to distract him. So that he wouldn't see you in here."

"So you were embarrassed that someone might see me?"

"_No_," he said, his tone growing frustrated again. "You know how he reacts to things like this; the last thing I wanted was for our morning together to be ruined by that moron yelling about how '_my son is finally a man!' _when he saw you here."

Behind the door, Rukia chuckled silently at Ichigo's extremely accurate impersonation of Isshin. _Wait, _she thought to herself, _did he say 'our morning' just now? _She reached a hand up to wipe away the unwanted tears from her cheeks, the feeling of frustration slowly ebbing away. She allowed the silence to linger a moment more before she asked her question, her voice far more controlled than it had been a moment earlier.

"Why did…" she paused for a second, hoping that she didn't sound like a child, fearing what his answer could be. "…why did you think I would be gone when you got back?"

"Didn't you get my text message?"

Rukia's eyes widened as she looked over at her cell phone on his nightstand. The small light on its face was blinking every few seconds, a small red alarm to let her know about a missed message. She reached over and grasped at it, flipping the screen up. Her eyes widened even further as she read the previously unseen text message:

"_I'm out with my idiot father. He's probably gonna want to come in and complain about how messy the apartment is later, so I don't recommend sticking around too long. Go ahead and hang out at Urahara's for a while and I'll come get you when I can, okay? I'll make us some dinner."_

Rukia could feel her face turn red as she read over the message again. She sheepishly turned her phone off and placed it back onto the nightstand.

"I take your silence as a _no, _then?" Ichigo asked from the other side of the door, his voice chuckling softly.

Rukia stood up quickly and whipped the door open, watching contentedly as he fell back when his back support was removed. She looked down at him, trying her best to scowl, hoping that she didn't look as weepy as she felt.

"Of course I didn't get your stupid message," she snapped at him as he stood up. "My phone ran out of battery. You didn't plug it in like I asked you to, dummy!"

Instead of yelling back, as he was wont to doing, he looked at her softly as he brought his thumb up to her cheek and wiped away a tear. Rukia clenched her jaw slightly, her already wounded pride attempting to save face by fighting back the swelling emotions within her. A tiny smile crossed his lips as her shimmering violet eyes looked up at him.

"Did you _really_ think that I didn't want to come home to you," he said gently, "Rukia?"

Her eyes shifted away from his for a brief moment but his hand slid from her cheek to under her chin, his fingers tilting her face back up towards him.

"Why would I ever want you to be anywhere else?"

"Ichigo…"

He leaned in and kissed her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against him. She swelled with happiness at the feel of his lips as her hands reached up and held onto the sides of his neck. They broke apart, his brown irises shining down into her eyes serenely.

"And stop cryin' so much," he said with a quaint smirk. "It doesn't suit you."

Rukia punched him hard in the chest.

----------------

_thanks to everyone who reviewed and faved the first part. you guys are awesome._

_i don't know if i'll do another chapter for these two or not. i just wanted to continue the story a little. sometimes the day after sleeping with your best friend can be a little bit awkward. _

_trust me._

_but be sure to put me on alert in case i decide to revisit this._

_jta!_

_(p.s. youtube this song and go see 'watchmen'. both will make you happy.)_

_**miss blue - filter**_


	3. Marriage of Days

_**Marriage of Days**_

Ichigo stood outside of the great dining hall, the yellow lights pouring out into the night sky through the massive glass doors behind him. His deep brown eyes were watching the smoke from his cigarette float into the night sky in thin and wispy strands, the pale tendrils of burning tobacco reflecting that yellow briefly before it flowed into the blue of the full moon above. His head tilted back as the smoke rose into the air, above the fat and lonely moon, and into the eternal that stretched beyond.

The stars always made him think about things that were far too big to truly comprehend. The afterlife, as far as he knew, was understood to be the Soul Society. And while he'd never been in the King's Realm, he didn't imagine it being the stars themselves. Why would anyone want to live in the vacuum of space, anyway? Surely the King wouldn't live there?

_Fuck, _he thought as he blew a thin spear of smoke out into the air. _Maybe he does. I know I would if I could._

Ichigo was a bit sloshed.

The Kuchiki Manor's Annual Gala, at Rukia's insistence, had been held in the real world this year; in the upper east quadrant of Karakura Town, to be exact. The dining hall at his back served one of two purposes on any given night: a reserved location for the extremely wealthy to drink and dance long into the night, or a hall for high-school students to do the exact same thing whenever their campus would plan a dance. And right now, Ichigo wished he was at the latter.

Rukia had decided, in all of her giddy and intoxicated splendor, to inform the vast majority of the attendees of her recent "betrothing" to one Kurosaki Ichigo. An arrangement that, up until thirty minutes ago, Ichigo hadn't even known was official. After all, they'd only shared their first kiss two months ago. He had no problem with the two of them being "official" or what-have-ye – in fact, he wasn't even concerned that she'd decided to tell people without talking it over with him first.

No, his real issue with the situation was that her boisterous proclamation of their "togetherness" was announced in front of a room full of Kuchiki noblemen. Including Byakuya.

Needless to say, these words hadn't quite settled well with him. Fortunately enough, he hadn't been near Rukia at the time – he had been refilling his drink when he'd heard her utter the statement that had caused her entire table to plummet into silence. And even more fortuitously, the open bar had been right next to the door that he'd immediately snuck out of.

So there he was, standing in happy solitude as the rest of the nobles inside danced and drank and plotted his immediate demise. With a final drag, the smoke burning against the back of his throat as the cherry of his cigarette touched upon the filter, he flicked the smoking stick out and into the night.

"So, Kuchiki, eh?" A strange voice called out to him. He turned around to see Kyoraku Shunsui sauntering up to him, a drink in hand. The captain looked quite different outside of his normal pink and white _haori _combination, but that didn't mean he couldn't look familiar at the same time. His hair was pulled back into the same rugged ponytail, tied tight with a simple cloth and a pair of expensive pinwheels. Even his tie was pink against his white undershirt.

Ichigo chuckled. "So I guess word has spread in there?"

"'Fraid so, kid," Shunsui said with a small chuckle as he pulled up alongside the orange-haired Substitute Shinigami, his elbows coming to rest against the staccato ledge. "You mind if I get one of them smokes from ya?" he asked, his soft brown eyes glancing down to the protruding rectangle of Ichigo's breast pocket.

"Oh, of course," Ichigo said, his voice slurring slightly as he flipped the pack open and thumbed out one of the thin white cylinders. "I usually don't smoke – it's a bad habit I picked up from my dad. But when I drink…"

"Tell me about it," Shunsui said as Ichigo offered him a match. "I love to smoke when I drink, but I never do. My lieutenant would _kill_ me if she ever found out that I did."

"Lieutenant Ise?" Ichigo questioned as he pulled another cigarette out for himself. "Why would she care if her captain smoked or not? I mean…"

A sideways look from Shunsui caused Ichigo to trail off before his eyes widened in shock.

"You and Nanao?" Ichigo asked in a hushed whisper.

Shunsui dragged from his cigarette and exhaled fully, the smile that came to his lips giving Ichigo the only reply that he was going to receive. Ichigo turned back to the ledge that the two of them were leaned upon, his eyes wide. He chuckled slightly and turned back to the captain whom he hardly knew.

"So how bad does it look in there for me," Ichigo asked, the alcohol in his system allowing him to smile slightly at his impending death, "honestly?"

"Well," Shunsui replied as he pulled deeply from his borrowed cigarette and spoke with a throatful of smoke, his voice foggy. "I wouldn't go in there just yet, kid."

Ichigo sighed. "That bad?"

"Let's just say," the captain replied as he flicked his smoke off into the darkness of the night, "that the captain and lieutenant of the sixth division aren't exactly on your list of friends right now."

"Wonderful," Ichigo said with a sigh before bringing his glass up to his mouth and throwing his head back.

"What are you drinkin', Ichigo?" Captain Kyoraku asked, reaching his hand out for the empty cup in the boy's hands. "I'll get you a refill."

"White Russian," Ichigo said. "That's Kahlua and—"

"Oh, I know what's in it," Shunsui interrupted as he turned to walk inside. "Trust me – I know."

The older captain snuck back inside, leaving Ichigo to watch the moon in solitude once more. He looked up at it in silent admiration, his eyes tracing along the scars and seas that marred its surface. Karakura was very rarely awarded such a clear night as this – usually the moon was trapped behind a haze of yellow smog and green fluorescents. Tonight, however, the moon was full and white and close; Ichigo imagined that he could touch it if he were to only reach out his arm and try…

"White Russian?" barked an extremely familiar voice, one that froze his spine and forced him to remain facing outwards. "That's a strange drink there. Ichigo. I thought you preferred beer?"

"Well, if the bar is _open_, you gotta indulge," Ichigo said as the other man walked up beside him and handed off the milky drink. "Wouldn't you agree, Renji?"

To his surprise, the tattooed lieutenant laughed heartily. "You think I drink _scotch _every day?"

"I didn't even know you knew it existed," Ichigo said with a chuckle.

A moment of silence passed as the two men looked upon the infinite of space that stretched above them. These two young men who, when they'd been younger, had tried to cut one another to ribbons on more than one occasion. These two men who had formed a strange and strained alliance under the threat of a common enemy.

These two young men who both loved the same girl.

"Rukia," Renji said nostalgically, almost as if he could read minds. "She's a good kid."

"Yeah," Ichigo said neutrally, cautiously. "She wouldn't be Rukia if she wasn't."

"Yeah," Renji echoed before sipping out of his glass. "She's always been a great girl. As long as I've known her. Which, I might add," he said turning towards Ichigo, his playful demeanor dropping slightly, "is a _lot _longer than you've even been alive."

Ichigo nodded slightly and took a sip from his drink. Normally in a situation like this, he and Renji would but heads and yell at each other – maybe even throw a few punches – and then the problem would be in the past. But not this time; this time, it was a matter of true pride. The kind of pride that exists between the man that won the gold medal, and the man that one the silver. This was a situation that needed to be handled with kid gloves, without breaking any eggs.

"Well," Renji said suddenly and with a slur, "I just figured I'd come out and tell you that." He sat his empty drink glass down on the staccato ledge and left it there, turning away from his companion and heading back towards the party.

"Also," he continued, his face cutting over his shoulder slightly "Captain's lookin' for you."

Ichigo sighed but said nothing, turning his back on the music and the lights and the food once more. He pulled out another cigarette, feeling guilty that he was smoking so much, but justified because they made him feel better about the shitty night he was having. He placed the smoke up to his lips and left it there, his eyes once more finding themselves transfixed upon the heavens, his mind once more upon the concept of eternity and the infinite.

And the Unknown.

"Here," came a calm voice as the warmth of a fresh pair of matches tickled his chin and the smell of sulfur reached his nostrils. "Let me get that for you."

Ichigo didn't turn to look at the charitable match lighter – instead he leaned forward calmly and aligned the tip of his cigarette with the offered falme. He kept his eyes forward and upon the moon as the warmth and light faded away slightly, the peripheral of his vision picking up a slight flickering as his new companion used the matches for his own purpose. The smell of a fine cigar wafted to Ichigo's nostrils, the sweet smell so different from the cheap, mentholated rolls that he'd been puffing away at all night.

"Do you know why we Kuchiki hold this Gala every year," Byakuya asked as he pulled the cigar away from his lips, "Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"In honor of your pride as a strong and noble house?" Ichigo responded, finally turning his face to Byakuya. Rukia had already told him the history of the Kuchiki clan in its entirety, as if she needed to alleviate the knowledge from her brain before it exploded. Ichigo knew the answer to Byakuya's question – he was simply being polite. And mostly out of fear.

"Precisely," Byakuya said shortly. "The Kuchiki house has always held pride above all else, no matter where that pride may come from. From the success of the household to the success of the individual, _pride _has always been what we've strived to achieve. Pride is why I kept those promises to my mother and father. _Pride _is why I kept my promises to Hisana."

Byakuya finally turned his piercing gaze away from Ichigo, instead turning it upon the moon. A moment passed, the only sounds being the muffled music from inside the building behind them and the soft puckering of Byakuya's lips against his cigar.

"Do you know what I pride myself on the most, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Byakuya asked, his grey eyes remaining upon the fat, blue moon. "It is that girl inside the building. That girl who proclaims her love for _you_."

Ichigo swallowed hard. His mouth had been dry from the second the sixth division's captain had appeared, but now the skin of his tongue could rival the _Gobi_. He had no idea what to say. Swiftly and smoothly he dragged upon his cigarette one more, hoping that his bid for silence would be rewarded with something other than the lack of conversation. Fortunately, yet frighteningly, Kuchiki Byakuya did not hold his tongue for long.

"And do you know why I pride myself on Rukia, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Byakuya asked, his eyes once more focusing on the younger Shinigami, those cold, grey orbs burrowing into his cheeks.

"It is because of you."

Ichigo's eyes widened as he spun around at Byakuya's absurd statement.

"If it had not been for you," the noble captain continued, "she would have been dead and my promise to Hisana would have been broken. Because of you, Ichigo, I could lay to rest two oaths and see for myself what was worth protecting – what was worth _loving_."

Byakuya suddenly turned and walked away from the stucco ledge, his cigar smoke trailing behind him like an exotic cologne. Ichigo was absolutely stupefied; he hardly said a _thing, _and Byakuya had just given him permission to court his sister. He was almost completely expecting to wind up with _Senbonzakura _lodged deep within his stomach by the end of that conversation, and yet…

"Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya said sternly as he extinguished his cigar in the ashtray next to the door. "Rukia is deeply apologetic about her outburst earlier this evening. When she comes to you," his voice lowered into the threatening timbre of the noble that Ichigo was used to hearing, "I suggest you be forgiving."

And with that, Kuchiki Byakuya was gone.

Ichigo turned back to face the moon once more, his thoughts of the endlessness of space now seeming minute compared to the miracle that he'd just witnessed. Surely whatever combination of elements that composed the symphony of the cosmos could not have written the extraordinary waltz that had just transpired upon this humble blue planet. His normally infinite wonderment at the stars was currently at a standstill.

"Ichigo?"

A smile crossed his face as he turned away from that stucco ledge to face his final visitor of the night. His brown eyes settled upon the petite young woman that stood a sheepish distance away from him, her small frame wrapped in an elegant affair of white and lavender. Her jet-black hair hung down to her shoulders, perfectly contrasting both her fair skin and her pastel dress. Her eyes, as blue as the middle of the pacific at high noon, shimmered with guilt as she looked at him.

He took a step forward and held out his arms, the gesture speaking more words of forgiveness than his mouth ever could. She rushed at him, flinging her small body into his, her thin arms wrapping tightly around his waist as she clung to his hips. He chuckled slightly and leaned back a bit – just enough for him to slip his index finger underneath her chin and tilt her heart-shaped face up to his.

"Hello there," he said as he leaned in and placed a small kiss on her thin lips. "Shinigami."

"It's not 'Shinigami'," she said, her voice cracking a bit as she slapped the lapel of his jacket lightly. "It's Ku—"

The rest of her sentence was lost as he kissed her again.

---------------------------

**_author's note_**

_because i've been busy with my big stories (**So **and **Anonymous**) i didn't actually plan on writing anything else for this story. buuuuuut i got a little drunk tonight and decided that we all needed a little ichigo/rukia up in here. so i decided to write this little thing real quick - i hope you all enjoyed it._

_HUGE thanks to all the people that have dropped a **review **for this story so far. feel free to drop **another review **if you so feel the need to. i DO love reading them._

_peace in greece,_

_jta!~_

_**marriage of days - eyvind kang**_


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